


Cold Comfort

by BloodEnvy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Comfort fic, F/M, Fluff, angel replacement fic, post joyce's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Set during "Forever".What if it was Spike, and not Angel, that took Buffy’s hand at her mother’s grave?





	Cold Comfort

Darkness had seeped into the world a long while ago, and the night usually meant something. Something important. But she didn’t care. Her muscles ached from being completely motionless for so long, but she hardly noticed. Part of her mind was trying to remind her of something, of a life back in the real world, away from the tiny plot, but she wouldn’t let it through. The silence dominating her mind covered it better than any scream would.

Her mother was dead.

Her eyes bored into the freshly dug earth, and flashes flickered through her mind.

Her Mom calling her for dinner, asking her if she’d finished her homework. Hugging her when she’d finally come home after running away to L.A. Watching Thelma and Louise, her Mom knowing all of Louise’s lines. Singing Happy Birthday...

Her Mom telling her about the shadow that had appeared in her x-rays. Just a shadow. Assuring her that she was going to be fine and that Buffy didn’t need to worry about her. Finding her mother cold and still on the couch. A rib cracking.

Dawn crying next to her as they threw down the first shovelful of dirt onto the coffin, burying her mother six feet down.

Dimly, Buffy acknowledged movement, a presence beside her. She didn’t bother to turn. She knew, without any question, who it was.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” The voice was quiet, husky and sweet, his grief cutting into her own, adding to it.

A moment passed before Buffy truly heard the words behind the sorrow, and she nodded. Almost unconsciously, she reached back and slipped her hand into his. She felt him squeeze it tightly.

And for several long moments, she and Spike stood side by side, eyes on her mother’s grave.

 

* * * * * * *

 

The barest hint of morning was leaking into the horizon, adding a pinkish hue to the darkness around them. Spike and Buffy sat on a hill overlooking the cemetery, one they knew well. They’d used it many times during patrol, to find fledglings rising from the graves. They both sat leaning against a large oak, and Spike had carefully put an arm around her shoulders, his hand closed over her upper arm, pulling her against him slightly.

Buffy dimly recalled that letting Spike touch her like this, to find comfort in the vampire was wrong, but she ignored that voice, one hand resting lightly on his thigh, just above the knee.

“The funeral was... It was brutal.” She murmured, and Spike squeezed her shoulders, almost like a reflex. Comforting her, making sure she was alright had become second nature to him. Just like trying to kill her had used to be, he realized with a bitter, self-taunting smile. “But its tomorrow I’m really worried about.”

“Tomorrow, pet?” Spike glanced down at her, and she was staring at the grass a few feet away, eyes unfocused. “I don’t understand. What’s tomorrow?”

“That’s exactly what I don’t know. Up until now, I’ve had a road map: things to do every minute that had to do with Mom.” Her voice was pained, but didn’t break. She was beyond tears.

“So you’ll go to The Magic Box, and you’ll... patrol with me. And you’ll take care of Dawn.” Spike listed, hoping selfishly that she wouldn’t say ‘no’ to patrolling. He hated himself for thinking of him while she was hurting. “You’ll be Buffy.”

Buffy shifted next to him, turning so she was curled against him, her knees almost in his lap. Spike let his arm drift down to rest around her waist, and his other hand held her knee, rubbing it reassuringly.

Buffy smiled bitterly. “Something everybody expects me to know how to do because I’m so ‘strong’.”

Spike squeezed her, pulling her closer. He turned his head slightly, so his next words were said into her hair. “Your friends... Giles, and the rest of ‘em... They’ll understand you can’t just go on with life right away, pet. They know you need time.” He pressed his lips softly against her hair.

“Time’s not the issue.” Buffy argued, her eyes closing as she felt the slight pressure of his lips against the top of her head. “I’m good at sticking wood in vampires, but Mom was the strong one in real life. She always knew how to make things better... what to say...”

“Buffy... I loved Joyce, your Mom... she was...” Spike swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat. “Honestly, she was the only one of your bloody lot that I could stand.” He smirked at himself. He’d said the same thing to Xander two days ago. “She was intelligent, caring, funny. She always had a cuppa for me when I was feelin’ low. She was a wonderful lady. And you have that in you too. She raised you to be strong. And you are, love.”

“I don’t know...” Buffy shook her head, and a desperate tone edged her next words. “I keep thinking about it, Spike. When... when I found her. If I’d gotten there just _ten minutes_ earlier...”

“It wouldn’t have made any difference love. Isn’t it what the ‘medics told you?” Spike looked down at her again, trying to meet her eyes. She was still staring at that spot on the ground.

“ _Probably_ wouldn’t have made a difference,” Buffy stated, the pain in her voice doubling. “The exact thing they said was _probably_. I haven’t told anyone that...”

“It wasn’t your fault, love.” Spike said, his tone slightly harsher than before. He was touched that he was her confidant, but this wasn’t about him. He had to make her believe. She had to believe it wasn’t. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Buffy scoffed, shaking her head. “I didn’t even start CPR until they _told_ me. _I fell apart_. That’s how good I am at being a grownup.”

“Buffy, love, I—“

“If it was just me I had to worry about... But Dawn...” Buffy voice broke, and she leaned her head back against Spike’s shoulder. She was so pathetic. She could barely take care of herself. She couldn’t even rip herself away from the cemetery. How could she be expected to take care of Dawnie too?

Spike tightened his arms around her, pressing another light kiss to her hair before resting his chin there. “You can do it Buffy. I know you feel alone, and scared, and you’re hurtin’ right now, but you are strong, love. You can do this. You have people who love you and wanna help. I’ll be here, every step of the way. You’re not alone, Buffy.”

Buffy couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to deny his words. He had such faith in her. How could anyone believe in her that much? Instead, she looked up, finally consciously noticing the pink tinge to the sky.

“It’s going to be light soon.”

Spike followed her gaze, judging the time. After over a century of dodging sunlight, he could tell how long he had. No need to go running for the nearest sewer pipe just yet.

“’m still gonna be here for you, love. As long as you need.” He hesitated, “As long as you want me around.”

“How’s forever? Is forever good for you?” The words fell from her mouth before Buffy knew she’d said it. Glancing up at Spike, she felt a twinge of guilt at the blind hope that lit up his eyes, despite the expression on his face. He was trying so hard not to let his own emotions through, caring only about what she was feeling. “Sorry. There’s a bad idea. I’m seriously needy right now.”

Buffy could see that hopeful glow dim as she said the words. Still, she felt his arm tighten around her waist in comfort. God, how could he still be putting her first?

“Don’t worry ‘bout me now, sweet. I‘ll be fine. I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He reassured her. This wasn’t about him. She needed him right now.

Buffy pushed herself upward and pressed her lips to his, her eyes closed. Spike responded reflexively, pressing soft kisses against her mouth. Buffy parted her lips, her tongue coming out to force his lips apart and push into his mouth. The intensity built quickly, her anxiety forcing her desire to the surface, mirroring his.

Some small part of Spike seriously wanted to break away, knowing it wasn’t true desire she was feeling. Still, he kissed her back, hoping to comfort. He selfishly let the kiss go on for a few more minutes until he felt her hand creep back onto his thigh. Pulling away, his head fell back against the oak’s trunk, his breathing heavy.

He let out a shaky laugh. “Although, if you’re gonna be doing that, love, I may need a bit of warning first.”

Buffy’s breathing was as hard as his, and she shook her head. “God, I’m sorry. I told you I was needy.”

“Again, I don’t mind the needy, pet. You just let it happen.” Spike assured her, feeling slightly dizzy. He stroked her waist softly with his hand, and kissed her sweet-smelling hair again. “I can take it.”

The way he touched her sent pleasant tingles up her spine, and Buffy closed her eyes again. She was so selfish. Opening her eyes, she glanced at the sky again.

“You’d better go.” She couldn’t keep the reluctance out of her voice. She felt so safe with him. She didn’t want to be alone. Dawn was with Willow and Tara, and she didn’t even think she’d be able to face her little sister anyway.

“’m sorry, love.” Spike mumbled, staring up at the sky again, his head still against the tree.

“No, Spike. Don’t be.” Buffy twisted to face him, and touched a hand to his cheek. “I’m glad you came. I didn’t ask you to, and still you... I didn’t think I’d make it through the night. Not alone. I don’t even...” She paused, swallowing, unshed tears lodged in her throat.

“What, love?”

“I don’t even know if I’m gonna make it through today,” she whispered, looking at her hands.

“Well, I don’t have to go just yet.” Spike calculated, glancing at the horizon. “We got a few more minutes before I’m the Human Torch. Besides, if you wanted I could...”

Buffy looked up at him again, her eyes shining somewhere between fear and hope.

“I could take you home, keep you company. Let you get some sleep, I mean. I could be there for you.” He rambled, completely expecting her to laugh and push him away. “Make sure you’re not alone.”

What Buffy did do was lean up and press her lips to his again, softly, and then kissed his cheek. She burrowed in next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her completely.

“Yes... thank you.”

With a few more minutes before dawn, they sat together and stared at nothing, before she let him scoop her up in his arms and head for Revello Drive.


End file.
